


Red Strings of Fate

by CupcakeSlave



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeSlave/pseuds/CupcakeSlave
Summary: Jon Moxley was a one and done kinda guy. Relationships weren’t his thing. How he finds himself in one is a complete mystery to him.Excerpt: They met like a love song. Eyes seeking each other across a crowded room. Smoke curling in the air and alcohol spilled over years clinging to their feet. Mox was usually a one night kinda guy, better that way for everyone involved but this girl. She was something special. She was for more than just a night, she was worth at least two or three.





	Red Strings of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted to tumblr http://lunaticbun.tumblr.com

They met like a love song. Eyes seeking each other across a crowded room. Smoke curling in the air and alcohol spilled over years clinging to their feet. Mox was usually a one night kinda guy better that way for everyone involved, but this girl. She was something special. She was for more than just a night, she was worth at least two or three.

Only trouble was, she was a forever kind of girl. She believed in the one and she was waiting for a fairytale to land at her feet. Mox didn’t know that as he made his way over and said,

“Can I buy you a drink ?”

He intends for it to only go on for a little while. A week maybe, just so he can fuck her out of his system. A week becomes two, which becomes three and before Mox knows it he’s somehow ended up in a relationship.

He rolls with it, keeps it as casual as he knows how and hopes for the best. He’s really got to start dealing with his problems better. He’s six months deep in the unknown jungle that is long-term relationships when she drops the bomb on him.

“I love you Mox”

She looks like a movie. Her eyes shining with affection, curled under his arm on the sofa and looking as fragile as glass. So easy for Mox to crush with his clumsy hands. Moxley isn’t meant for love. There’s too many rules and too many things to leave him vulnerable. He’s not made for it and he accepted that years ago. Now here’s this girl he can’t quite get out of his system, telling him all the things he never wanted to hear.

He’s quick to get some space, darting up from the sofa and taking three big paces away from her. His back is already to the door, ready to turn and run at any second. His hands are up defensively, like she’d hurled an insult instead of an I love you.

“Slow down there princess. I didn’t think we were doing the feelings thing”

He’s already hurt her. With one action he’s wounded her and he feels like shit for doing it. This is why Mox doesn’t do love. He can make himself feel like crap good enough on his own, thanks.

“The feelings thing ? Jon we’ve been dating for six months ! How is that not a feelings thing ? Are you saying you don’t care about me ?”

Mox doesn’t deal well with questions that have difficult answers or women that speak using air quotations. What can he say that isn’t going to hurt ? He likes her okay. She’s nice and she’s hot but he can’t give her what she wants. It’s not in him.

“Look sweetheart. You seem to want some perfect, movie relationship. I’m down to fuck that’s it. I don’t do love, i can’t give you what you want”

She’s crying. Great. As if Mox wasn’t lost enough before. Crying women are his kryptonite. He doesn’t know what to do with them. Does he give them a tissue ? Do they need a hug or a pat on the head ? Does he try and be comforting ? Fuck if Mox knows. 

“I don’t want something perfect Jon. I want something infinite, something that’ll last forever. I don’t want to feel like I’m alone anymore. I want safety. I want security. I want infinity with you. Millions of years which we spend together. Happy, sad, angry, upside down i don’t care, as long as it’s you and me against the fucking world”

She’s risen from her seat, fists clenched and panting with the force of her words. Like if she says them loud enough, believes them strongly enough it’ll come true. If only her mother had bothered to tell her that fairy wishes don’t really come true.

Mox is more than a little alarmed. Love is scary enough but forever ? That’s a whole lot more time to fuck up. Love can end, love can die but forever by it’s very nature just keeps stretching on. He can already feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to drown him.

“I can’t give you that. I’m only made for blood and pain baby. I can’t give you forever. I can’t even fucking promise you tomorrow” It’s said before he flees. Not quite running out the door but close enough. She’s a statue in his living room. She wants to crumble into ash and have the wind blow her away. Scattering to the winds so she can be anywhere and everywhere but the place she is.

She’s scared to look down in case the hole she feels in her chest is real. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can see her bloody heart beating in his hands. Red dripping through his fingers staining them, marking him.

If only it were true. Her blood dripping into strings that would tie them together indefinitely. So no matter how far away he ran, he’d still carry a small piece of her with him.

She learns that day about real life. That eventually the clock strikes midnight and the carriage always, always turns back into a pumpkin. That you can dance the night away with a handsome prince but come morning he’s a frog once more. She learns that the stories her mother sent her to sleep with aren’t real.

She’s never really the same after that. The girl who wanted forever becomes the girl who can barely remember the night.

Her friends think she’s crazy. Her first big break-up and she’s changed her whole outlook on relationships. They don’t understand what it’s like to have your view on the world shift. They don’t know what it’s like to suddenly feels so small, so naive, so sheltered.

Mox wouldn’t say he forgets about her because he doesn’t really. Within the week he’s back in the bars, batting his eyelashes at any girl who’ll let him buy her a drink. It’s just not quite the same as it used to be. Before he looked at women like he looked at ice cream. Why limit yourself to one flavour when there’s so many to try ? After her though, he looks around and sees her eyes, her hair, the flash of her smile and he’s drawn to them.

Tastes of the woman he wants in women who’s faces he never quite remembers. So it’s not that he forgets her, it’s more that he tries not to think about her. He’s not really that successful. Sometimes in the middle of the night when he’s in pain and can’t sleep, he wonders what she’s doing.

He’d never imagine that she’d become him. Slinking into bars and batting her eyes at any man who’d buy her a drink. Giving him one night before blowing out of his door with the wind and never leaving a goodbye.

Instead he torments himself with the idea that she’s happy with someone else. Someone a little less fucked up than him. Maybe they got married, maybe they have a kid on the way. Why does Mox do this to himself ?

A couple years down the line they run into each other again. It was bound to happen. The amount of bars they both cycle through they were bound to meet once more. Mox is just shocked it took them this long.

He doesn’t recognise her at first. Just takes notice of her curves, imagines how they’d look under his hands. There’s something familiar about her but he can’t place it. Then she turns her head his way and he knows. She’s different. Sharper than when he first met her. She scans the room like a pro. Eyes flitting over each man until her target is identified. Mox watches with sick fascination over the night as she catches the guys attention and eventually goes home with him.

He goes back the next night hoping both that she’ll be there and that she won’t. He watches again as she plays the same game he has over the years. It makes his stomach feel hollow. It makes Mox wonder, “Was that me ? Did I do that ?” By the third night he’s found his balls and he approaches her.

“Hey sweetheart remember me ?”

She looks at him and frowns in thought, like she’s trying to place his face. Mox has gotta say, he thought he’d be more memorable.

“Sorry no. Did we go to high school together ?”

Ouch.

“No we didn’t. Sorry you just looked like a girl i once knew. I must have gotten confused”

The look she gives him is cold and unforgiving. “Yeah you must have. Clearly i’m not her.” Though it’s not spoken Mox hears the ‘anymore’ as clearly as if it had been. He walks away and straight out the door like he had once upon a time.

That night as he walks under the moonlight he pokes at the wound she’d left him with. Thinking ruefully about how she was another good thing he’d messed up, another regret for the ever growning collection, another what if for him to kick himself over. This is why Mox isn’t meant for love or other good things. Every thing he touches turns to crap.


End file.
